


Don’t Make Me Say It (just get me bandages)

by UselessLesbianLaughter



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Coming Out, Eating Disorders, Established Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, F/F, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Lena Luthor Knows Kara Danvers Is Supergirl, Lena Luthor Needs a Hug, Lena Luthor-centric, Lesbian Lena Luthor, Massive fucking TW for graphic depictions of restrictive eating disorders and exercise addiction!!, Mentions of Death, References to Conversion Therapy, Relapse, being outed, vent fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27638737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UselessLesbianLaughter/pseuds/UselessLesbianLaughter
Summary: So. It happened.Lena Luthor came out – on National Television.Well, came might not be the right word. She was kicked out.This leads to old demons resurfacing for Lena, falling back into old, unhealthy coping mechanisms and trouble in paradise when she can no longer hide her disordered behaviour from Kara.TW/CW for graphic depictions of eating disorders, exercise addiction, including numbers. being outed. homophobia. also references to past conversion therapy and grief/death. (also the d-slur) proceed with caution.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 7
Kudos: 69





	Don’t Make Me Say It (just get me bandages)

**Author's Note:**

> it's my mental breakdown/relapse and i get to decide how much projecting i do 
> 
> that being said, it honestly gets graphic and, yk, i'm writing it to be candid and raw and gritty and authentic and a purge of my own emotional turmoil but i'm also afraid someone is going to mistake this cautionary tale for an instruction manual. "i don't know how to talk about the rabbit hole without accidentally inviting you to follow me down it."   
> there's behaviours. there's numbers. if you think any of this could trigger you, i am begging you not to read this fic. i, god, go read something else, go read some fluff, seek help. this is an artistic expression for me, dealing w some shit, but honestly weigh in in the comments or wherever, if you think i should edit it down to have no numbers or if i should straight up delete it, fucking lmk.

So. It happened.

Lena Luthor came out – on National Television.

Well, _came_ might not be the right word. Was pushed, maybe. Kicked out.

It couldn’t be that bad, right? There’d always been rumours. _Lena Luthor gay?_ had been in the top ten most searched questions about her for ages, after all. The gossip about her and Supergirl mainly, her and Kara on a smaller scale, had been around longer than they’d actually been dating. So it was just a matter of time until some lucky paparazzo caught a snap of them, right? Well, really, it was her fault for not being careful enough. Sure, it’d been a dark street, and yes, she’d had a look around but it was still a public place, so, really, it was fair game.

She hadn’t even seen the tabloids when the mob of reporters ambushed her. She was just stepping out of the car on her way to work and suddenly, they were everywhere, like a pack of vultures surrounding her. What was she supposed to say? The photos were shoved in her face, what was there left to deny? She stared at them for a while, dumbfounded, deer in headlights chic.

The question that did it went something like this: “Don’t you think it’s important for the LGBT community for public figures to be open about themselves?”

“Don’t you think it’s important to let people come out on their own time?” she replied, boiling over. That did it, really. That was the last nail in the coffin.

She pushed through them, hailing security. Dodging stares, she sprinted up to the safety of her office, where she immediately dialled Kara. When she picked up, Lena didn’t know what to say. So, instead, Kara asked her.

“Are you okay?”

Still, Lena didn’t know what to say.

***

She didn’t eat that day. She gave herself a pass for it, just one day, just to cope. A day couldn’t take her back and besides, the events of the day had robbed her of an appetite. An appetite which didn’t return to the next day, or the day after that. But she didn’t tell anyone.

The first day was easy, anyway. They talked about what happened but there wasn’t much to say. The secret was out, everything that had been theirs and theirs alone had been violently claimed for public consumption. The details of their private life feasted upon with great gluttony by vultures left and right. She told Kara she felt sick and would be going to bed early, and Kara, _sweet Kara,_ was understanding as always.

The next morning, she ordered her coffee black instead of her usual latte. _2._

She stayed late at work. When she got home, she told Kara she’d had a big lunch and was exhausted so she’d turn in early. She was still awake by the time Kara wrapped her warm arms around her.

The pattern repeated a second time, and a third. Well, it was fine, she gave herself a free pass this week. It was a high-stress situation, this wasn’t a relapse, she was just _coping_.

And it was easy. Much easier than she remembered.

Yeah, she was lying again. _So what?_ Everyone lied sometimes. They were white lies, anyway. She just didn’t want Kara to worry. Kara had better things to do, and Lena liked their life as it was. Comfortable silences and movie nights, _normal stuff_. She was finally normal, at least when it was just the two of them. She didn’t want to Luthor this up, too, like she had her whole image by being _careless, careless, careless._ No. Kara couldn’t know. Besides, it was just a week.

On the fourth day, she signed up for a spin class. It’d been a while since she’d been to one but keeping fit would do her good, take her mind off things. And if she had to be a dyke publicly now, well, she might as well be a fit, hot one. Someone Kara could be proud to have on her arm.

She buried her whole soul into that bike, the sweat dripping from her forehead salting her lips. When she got off, her feet felt weak and wobbled beneath her. The room was starting to spin. _Alright_. _Fine_.

She bought an apple juice and a tube of glucose tablets from a corner store on her way home and downed them in the car. _300._ Immediately, she could feel her head clearing and some of the nausea that’d been building up at the back of her throat dissipating. She thought about taking the stairs but after a flight, she was out of breath and opted for the elevator instead.

On the fifth day, Kara asked her to lunch. Lena scrambled for an excuse. “ _Sorry, darling, I’d love to but I’m afraid I have an investors meeting. Another time, okay?”_

Even worse, when she got home that night, Kara had prepared a surprise for her in the form of homemade dinner. She’d worked so hard on it, and she looked so proud of it. That damned beaming puppy-dog look. So, Lena picked at the asparagus on her plate, put on a smile and talked about her day. She downed three whole glasses of water through the course of the meal and tried to hide her shaking hands wrapped around the glass. _22._ _“Mm, these are delicious, how did you make them?” Olive oil? God. 142? 262? Round up to 300._

Another spin class the next day, _subtract 300._ Another skipped breakfast. At lunch, Kara called her to ask her out again. She sounded almost excited, now that the cat was out of the bag, they might as well be a normal couple in public, right? But Lena had another _investors meeting_ , _darling, so sorry,_ during lunchtime, she locked the door to her office, drew the blinds and did sit-ups under her desk. It was better, then, that no one knew of this. It was pathetic, after all. She was a grown woman, a professional. This was some embarrassing teenager stunt she was pulling but it was just for a week, right? Just to ease the burn of her closet eviction letter. This was an old coping mechanism, a trusty one. It fit like a comfortable old flannel, draped around her shoulders and sagging at the sleeves, trenched in an odd nostalgia, sad and happy at the same time. Either way, it made her feel protected from the outside world. Invincible, even. And pretty, on a good day. And if she had to be a dyke, might as well be a pretty one.

She didn’t stay late at the office that night, no. She went back to the gym and found a treadmill in the furthest, most isolated corner of the cardio room. Set a steady tempo and ran. Running was good. Movement was, really, as long as she didn’t have to stop moving, she wouldn’t have to start thinking. When she got home that night, Kara was waiting with takeout. She complained of yet another late night at the office and headed for bed. Before she could close the door, Kara said the worst thing she could possibly say.

“You have to eat.”

Lena tried to laugh it off. “Darling, I had a huge lunch! I’ll join you for dinner tomorrow, alright? I’m just so tired.”

And that time, Kara let her off the hook. By god, Lena was hoping Kara would forget the promise she made, even though on some subconscious level, she knew she wouldn’t. So, instead, she left work early to head to the gym. Spin class, treadmill, yoga class to cool down and soothe her aching muscles. Part of her hoped it might ease the chest pains that’d been piercing her breathing for a few days, and a part of her knew it wouldn’t.

Home, she greeted Kara with a smile, which faltered, seeing the takeout on the counter. _Big Belly Burger._

Kara gave her a brief kiss. Reluctantly, she sat down at the dinner table. Lifting the top bun with her index finger, she said, “Oh, that’s beef, isn’t it? You know, I read an article recently about how beef is a huge contributor to climate change so I think I’m going to cut it out. Might actually go vegan, might be something fun to try, you know, National City has so many vegan places now! It’s insane!” And as subtly as she could manage, she pushed the burger away from herself, then plastered on her best fake smile. “Fries, though! Yum, I love these!”

And Kara smiled.

  1. Okay, she could, she could do 320, as long as she went for an extra run tomorrow morning.



By the time Kara was long finished with her mountain of food, Lena was still picking on a half-full bag.

“Everything alright?”

It came to her through a fog.

“What – oh! All good! Just a bit of an upset stomach, lunch hasn’t been sitting right all day,” she brushed it off. Kara still gave her a furrowed brow so she performatively picked up a bundle of fries and shoved them into her mouth. Rhythmically chewing, she fought back the stubborn wetness gathering in the corners of her eyes.

She finished the fries, and excused herself to the bathroom. Gripping the wall on both sides like a statue of Jesus on the cross, she slid down to the floor. She let out a heavy sigh and glared at the toilet. God, she wanted to. But it wasn’t worth it. That was always more effort than it was worth. It was easier just to make up for it with a run and an extra day fasted. So, instead, she just sat there, heaving.

Every bathroom floor was the same.

The cold tile was easy to sink into. It was all so terrifically wonderfully familiar, like coming home for the holidays and how it was always the most terrible, lonely time of year, whether the house was decked in yuletide or not, whether she had a father or a father-shaped emptiness. She stared at the white ceiling and the ceiling, as they always, generously do, did not stare back.

This, too, was familiar – her hands snaking their way behind her head, thrusting into her hair and pushing up, dragging her back off the floor and falling back with a thud, _one, two, three._

_100 will burn 30._ Not a significant difference but the rhythmic up-and-down calmed her, though it ached each time her spine kissed the hard tile. Part of her hoped it would bruise. The more she bruised, the easier she could sleep, knowing she’d worked hard.

***

The next day she found strands of dark hair on her keyboard. So, after work, she dropped by the pharmacy and grabbed a cart. _Let’s see –_ biotin, keratin, iron, B12, B6-complex, C, calcium, folic acid, throw some probiotics in there, D, K, A and E were fat-soluble and that was no good but just in case, magnesium and zinc and omega 3-6-9. She threw a thing of glucose tablets into her cart to top it off but couldn’t find potassium anywhere except in an electrolyte drink with, _shudders_ , sugar. She’d just get some online.

Wasn’t she just doing this for a week? Well, she’d do two, just two, and besides, going vegan might actually be a good idea and, well, just having these around couldn’t hurt.

She paused in front of the weight loss pills. Miracle burn and fat burner and _women’s_ fat burner and apple cider vinegar. Quackery, all! She knew that, right? And yet, her hand hovered. Deep breath. _Okay. Moving on._ Quick glance towards the laxatives, _oh, fuck that!_ And she headed for the registers.

The cashier cave her a pitying glance and Lena turned her nose up.

After the pharmacy, she headed to the store again.

She grabbed a bottle of coconut water – _gross. But electrolytes._ A pack of sugar-free gum, no, two. Her instinct was to head for the diet cokes but dear Lord, the zero-calorie beverage business had really stepped up its game since she was last seriously at this. A nuclear-looking Monster Ultra it was _._ And a protein bar, not for a quick snack but a break-the-wrapping-in-case-of-emergency.

Self-checkout this time, she was sick to her stomach of pitying glances today.

***

Sitting at a red light, she inspected her white hands gripping the steering wheel. Her nails were turning blue, it was fall, after all, it was freezing cold outside. She’d schedule a mani for tomorrow, draw herself a hot bath tonight.

A honking horn shook her back to reality – the light had turned green. Driving, she passed a billboard. On it, a loaf of bread. She nearly burst out crying.

**Author's Note:**

> if anyone's wondering abt the Big Fic im working on rn, i Am working on it, dw, i'm just going through some shit and needed to vent. seriously, i am just projecting basically all my recent and ancient traumas onto lena but leave me alone, we share the same first name for pete's sake, i can do little a projecting, as a treat. lotse telling instead of showing but that's just because /nasal, artist voice/ eating disorders make you feel detached from the world. jk, it's bc this is my vent fic and i get to decide the quality of the writing and i decided Bad. weak ass first chapter, ik, i'm hoping to make the next 3 or so longer and better. idk don't give up on this fic i might deliver (or not)  
> i had more to say but i'm actively having brainfog, go figure, so,,  
> feedback/comments appreciated


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